


I Got Your Back (Literally)

by CenturiesPast



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Brotherhood, Brothers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sully is a clueless cinnamon roll, big brother!sam, hurt!Nate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 20:10:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10704231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CenturiesPast/pseuds/CenturiesPast
Summary: Some more hurt!Nate. Sam takes care of Nate in the plane. Takes place in the Scotland chapter.





	I Got Your Back (Literally)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Uncharted franchise. All rights go to NaughtyDog
> 
> A/N: This is for RayneSummer over on fan fiction who requested hurt!Nate in the Scotland level when the boys are in the plane. Hope you guys enjoy.

  
As soon as they're in Sully's plane and they're not being shot at, he and Sam start undressing rapidly. Nate can hear his teeth chattering as he hurriedly peels off the drenched layers of clothing that stick to his skin. Damn cold has probably seeped into their bones and that's _before_ they dove into the freezing water!  
  
Despite feeling an odd combination of soreness yet numbness in his body from all the climbing, sliding, running, and swimming, he feels something...off in the general mid-back area.  
  
"Yeah that's definitely weird.." he mutters uncomfortably at the increasing pain. The feeling is something akin to accidentally cutting yourself while washing a knife, but on his back. It's an intense cool burn in lieu of a sharp, hot cut.  
  
"Say somethin'?"  
  
He lifts his gaze to find Sam already fully clothed in the spare clothes they brought with them. Well isn't this the fastest change he's ever witnessed. He wishes Elena would have the same timing when they're at the mall. He feels guilt and homesickness start to creep up with that thought, with thinking about her, so he quickly dismisses it. He'll be back home before she knows it. If he doesn't die from hypothermia first.

"Nah...it's just my back..ah crap!" The pain has definitely gotten stronger. It's either that or his nerves have thawed and are starting to work again.

"Well," Sam smirks, "look who's getting old."  
  
" _Now_ do you see my point?" Sully huffs from the cockpit.  
  
"Yeah, yeah..."  
  
Maybe a rock or a stick crawled underneath his sweater during all that sliding and scratched his back?  
  
_It must be a really bad, ugly scratch_ he muses, and bends down to pick up his sweater which is a huge mistake on his part because it stretches whatever the hell happened to his back. He hisses at his stupid move in pain.  
  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Sam cries and halts his movements by placing his hand on Nate's bare shoulder.  
  
"Gah! You're hand's freezing!"  
  
"Shit- sit down."  
  
He slowly lowers himself onto the plane's uncomfortable seat, wincing as his back begins to burn even more. He eyes Sam picking up the first aid kit from the corner, almost losing his balance when they experience some turbulence.

If Sam gives some sort of reaction that isn't a shrug, then it indeed must be something. Besides, it's not like he needs the man's point of view; the pain is increasing by the second and Nate already has a perspective on the matter.  
  
“How bad is it?”  
  
Sam kneels in front of him rummaging through the kit. “Bullet grazed your back.”

That explains everything. Damn, and he thought he would be careful not to get any painful souvenirs from another dangerous mission this time. Lord knows he has a whole damn collection of scars already.  
  
“I was fine before I dove into the water, though.”  
  
“Yeah, well, they must’ve got you in the water.”  
  
Suddenly, Sam presses hell into his back (some kind of disinfectant) and that shit starts to _burn_. He arches his back, a cry escaping his lips at the intense burning sensation that inundates him.  
  
“Jesus, Sam!” he shouts, “Warn a guy-  
  
“Ah, quit being such a baby-  
  
“Hey, is everything alright back there?” Sully anxiously interjects.  
  
“Yeah, we’re fine!” Sam retorts curtly in a very “back off” like manner.  
  
He wants to tell Sam to stop being an ass, but he knows the older man’s just frustrated about not finding the treasure, and, not to mention, the ticking bomb that Alcazar put on his back. He lets it go.  
  
“Alright, I need you to stand.”  
  
He tries not to groan as he slowly rises from his seat. He almost head butts Sam when the plane jerks abruptly, but luckily he steadies himself by instinctively grasping onto Sam's shoulder for support. Once they're both steady on their feet, he lets go.

"No, no," Sam says, " put your hands on my shoulders. I need you steady for this."

"Aright, Doctor. Just hurry up."

Sam rolls his eyes. "I'm waiting for you, your highness."

He reluctantly complies, and smacks Sam's arm while he's at it. He tries to keep himself still because as exhausted as he is, low temperatures combined with pain make him want to move. Nate supposes it's out of habit, since "keep moving, Nate" was his mantra while being gut shot and left stranded in the freezing snow in the Himalayas.

Sam cups his the back of his head and leads him to his shoulder so he can get a good look on his back. He starts to bandage the son of a bitch by placing a gauze and wrapping bandages around his torso, tightly. Very tightly.  
  
“Ah! Ow-Sam that’s too tight,” he hisses.  
  
Too tightly.

“It’s fine.” Nate can practically hear him rolling his eyes. “You’re just being a wuss.”  
  
He grits his teeth when the plane jolts again causing them to lose balance, and when the plane dips to one side, he falls harshly back into the hard seat, the full force of the impact jostling his graze.

"AH! FU-

"Hey Victor, you mind taking it easy? I'm tryin' to dress a wound here!"

"Well hurry the hell up and sit your asses down!" Sully shouts back.

He doubts Sully knew that they were standing. It's not like he can crane his head back and check.

Sam's kneeling in front of him when he unscrews his eyes open.

"Hey," he speaks softly, "you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll live. Been through worse."

"Alright," he sighs, "let's try this again."

They resume they're previous position. All he wants to do is to put a sweater on. Is that too much to ask?

“Alright Nathan, I’m done.”  
  
“Thank God,” he breathes and tentatively swoops down for his sweater. When the soft fabric hugs his body, he sighs in relief, but he’s far from warm.  
  
Sam, as if reading his mind, drapes a blue blanket over his shoulders and gives his upper arm two gentle pats. A sudden balloon of emotion bursts in his chest. Thank God he has his brother back.  
  
The corner of his mouth lifts in gratitude.

“Thanks.”

Sam gives him a small smile in return.

"Yeah, don't mention it." 


End file.
